Don surveyed the lab space from the door, filling the frame. A dead hunter lay in a small pile of folding chairs in the order directly opposite the door. There was no blood spatter from an exit wound, but the BOW's claw's arm had been cut away neatly. "Bin trackin' your people through the cameras," he said with just a bit of a drawl. Americans - and a good deal of these ones were - had a hard time not wanting to trust him when he dialed up his Big Friendly Scot routine. "Not much o' ye left, but there's a few keepin' their heads down."

He looked up to the wrecked camera in concern and tsk'ed. "Guess I don't much have to be worryin' about fixing that up anymore. Explains why we couldn't pinpoint ye earlier, clever buggers. Smart thinkin', having a spot to hole up out of sight. The Ashfords have feeds down in their mansion to the same ones.

He glanced at the man - the last of Gamma team still in the facility proper, as far as he knew. Unlike the woman next to him, his face was uncovered. "That your idea, or did the girl there do all the work?" He switched his focus to the 'girl' in question. She really might have been a dead ringer for Alexia, who he'd glanced a few times in the facility on his feeds, just paler. The slender woman stood just a hair under six feet. She was watching the exchange with a flat, blank expression. "This one was hidin' inna closet when yer commander got hit, but I guess ye found yer nerve, eh?"

The man looked sidelong at his companion. "You were inna closet?"

The woman - Delta - shrugged. "That's an awfully personal question." There was a strong West Country twang to her voice. Don smirked. Well, now, he thought. Guess they weren't needing a perfect replica through and through. If his guess was right, they wouldn't have had much time to bother pulling a 'My Fair Lady' out of the bag.

"He was damned lucky I could patch him up anyhow. Nosferatu's got a hell of a bite to that sting. Wasn't expectin' to see the lighter bounce back so quick - he's pokin' around downstairs. Had yer boss inna prototype hibernaculum for a few hours. when he got stung by that nasty beastie. Guess the juice he's got running in him makes you think you're invincible." Don certainly felt just about invincible right about then, he hadn't felt this good since…hell, since his days in the marines, back in the sixties.

The man reached for his radio, and Don chuckled. "Don't believe me, eh? I'm supposed to come pick ye up so we can close in on the mansion. Yet boss has the private elevator key to nip down to their level, the whole lot of use can go in together."

The man responded. "Those aren't the orders I have."

"A bit's changed since your crew got chewed up, son?"

"Yeah, no shit. Those aren't my new orders."

"Oh?" Delta was looking at the other soldier sidelong. Her eyes snapped back to Don. "Wasn't that another team's problem? Hibernaculus?"

"Hibernaculum," Don said.

"Cold jar, got it," Delta said, dismissive.

Gamma attempted to resteer the conversation, bless. "You're McNally, right? That thing's still on this floor, it's a really bad idea to come up here alone."

Don shrugged, with a nod. "Well, y'know, I considered that - even brought a little extra protection. Then I got a look at this one takin' out ol' Nosferatu, and figured this was the safest damned place in the joint." Besides," He grinned at Delta, teeth bared. "I finally got a good look at ye when you were doin' it. For a minute, I thought this one was just a lookalike to lure the boss out - he's a bit scrambled these days, it might actually work - but she actually knows the family, don't she." He smirked at the woman. "Guess ol' Alexander wanted an extra spare in the tank for insurance, for all the good it did 'im. Musta pissed ye right off to see all this."

Delta stared at him for a moment, then turned to Gamma. "This story has a lot of voyeurism in it." There was a hard worry line drawing between her brows.

Don tsked at her. "Can't choose your family, I suppose, though can't imagine this was the softest way to meet them. Guess that's why you got the good tech - however you're keeping them off you. Seems like you got the luck of testing out a prototype?" Don's eyes started roving the room, looking for the tech in question. He drifted over to a counter were a few laminated cards were lying out. "Or didja run out? Because obviously you're carrying some new compound or something to ward that beastie off, considering how aggressive it is. Guess they wanted you runnin' around long enough to rile the family right up, eh kid?"

Delta looked at him, then asked the room at large, "Someone remind me again why we need to keep this one alive."

Ah, she was a lively one. That type usually spilled the beans out of sheer pique. "I'm the one keepin' the lot of you alive, sweetheart. That beastie and its combat data are the only thing keepin' Spencer from pounding the self-destruct button on this place like a two-dollar hooker before ye get a chance to go an' negotiate. I imagine that's to happen pretty imminent." He spied a pack on the back counter. "That yer gear?"

"You're very confident you're not about to lose an eye." Delta retorted. "The way in is locked."

"Just tryin' ta help. Biin workin' here decades. We can get in any time we like, luv." Don raised his hands in mock placation. "Guess that mouth is why you got to be monster bait. Nearly as bad as the Harman kid." Detla's eyes narrowed. Bullseye. "Saw yer big rescue on the cameras. How DO you know him anyhow? He clearly knew who you were."

"Think he knows who everybody is."

Gamma seemed to be getting nervous of Don's baiting, shaking his head almost unconsciously. Don grinned at him. "Ah, we're all friends here, yeah? Was surprised to see the kid out and about. Woulda thought he'd starved to death in Doctor Ashford's stasis chamber. He'd been locked in there fer goin' on two months now."

"That's a very specific thing to be sure of." Delta's voice didn't change, but he could see the tension growing in her stance.

"That was the one you saw earlier?" Gamma asked.

"Raccoon City survivor," Delta said, terse. "There's not many. We don't get paid enough to fuck wi' them, and they're actually smart enough to run." That last bit was directed at Don himself.

Then she blinked, stepped toward him. The light in here wasn't great, but it was enough to reflect the light off those red eyes. "You did something to yourself. That's why you're out of your hole, isn't it."

Red eyes.

Motherfucker, there's another one. He'd been baiting HCF's pet BOW. That little stunt with the chair flashed before his eyes. An hour ago, he would have reined himself in well beyond getting to this point, but all had been able to see was another pissant Ashford whelp in the way. Behind her, Gamma spoke up again. "Don't start, either of you. We've lost enough people today."

Don had had enough of Captain Buzzkill over there, whose hand had closed over his radio once more like he was trying to anchor himself against an incoming storm. Adrenaline coursed through him, blood pounding in his ears. Coming up here had been about securing a backup plan to get into the mansion, but if the little bitch wanted to do this the hard way, that was more than fine by him. His little toy was going to come in handy real nicely. "Guess I let the wrong one o' ye take the dive downstairs, eh? Ah well, yer bagman pulled through well enough."

"You're dying," Delta said, almost fascinated. Don blinked, unnerved. His arm was moving before he was really conscious of it, and he backhanded Delta hard enough to send her flying into the wall. He'd felt stronger since taking the antivenin, and it was so deeply satisfying to confirm that wasn't just a feeling. Her head connected to the surface with a hard smack, and she slid down the solid mat of growths.

"Three generations o' fucking Ashfords I've seen down here, and you all have shite manners. Guess that goes all the way down." He reached down to ready his BOW gun, firing a pEpsilon pellet at her point blank. Her eyes went wide. "See if a little nap improves your mood, love, we'll take watch."

Segers stared at the huge man, who had heaved a sigh of relief and turned to him again. "Sorry 'bout that mate. Got a little spooked for a minute, there." The man - McNally - wandered over to the counter to get a look at the laminated cards. "There's enough weird shit going on around. If it weren't for that mouth, she'd be a dead ringer for Alexia. Those were pEpsilon rounds, by-the-by. You don't want someone like that switching sides on you last minute, believe me."

He paused, then, "Can't deny I been wanting to slap the shit of o' one of them for decades now. Touched a nerve. I can't wait to get out of this hellhole, truth be told."

"She" had slid down the wall, eyes rolled up. There was blood in her hair. There was blood smeared across that black shit, marking her path to the floor. "That may have been hasty," Segers said slowly. "I'd be surprised if she doesn't end up with a concussion." McNally's face was red, veins bulging in his neck. He looked like a guy who had recently discovered steroids, and was on his way to getting hooked on them. The man's eyes had a manic sheen to them. Delta hadn't been bluffing about him being on something.

And his coveralls were covered in stains of various brown and red hues.

"How is the commander?" Segers ventured after a tense moment. Delta was likely going to get up any minute now - those rounds were the same shit she'd been breathing in bulk a day ago, and once they stopped working they didn't work again.

Or, he could get this part of the mission - securing Delta - wrapped up and grab the whole of her stash.

Something made Segers want to wait and see. Either way, he needed this man to be calm for long enough for the situation stabilize.

McNally raised the card closer to his face, squinting. "He's as I said. I think he's diggin' up dirt on Alexia before charging in." He raised the card, noticing the used equipment. "What're you up to in here?"

"Little bit of old-school Ashford stuff. Treatment serum. Baking soda volcano. That kind of thing." Keep it light. Keep the old bastard talking.

"Coulda used that shite when the bastard stung me." McNally groused. So something had happened to him as well. McNally, off his look, shook his head. "It's nothing, I dealt with it. I feel fine now. Better than fine, really," he added with a grin. At the card, McNally seemed to be working something out. "Must have been for general distribution in the facility in case someone fucked up. Looks like they dumbed it down so the warehouse guys could mix…" McNally stopped talking, squinted harder. Finally, he said, "this is auld Alexander's writing."

"Don't think it's good for big game like that, but whatever." Segers is trying not to react.

McNally seemed to be doing some calculations. "Yer boss is going to make a move on them soon, kid. Figured I'd swing by up here to pick the two of you up, I really did. Where did she even get this? It sure as fuck never went into distribution down here." McNally tucked the card into his pocket. "Seems like it's still relevant, if ye don't mind me grabbing a spare copy."

Delta groaned on the ground, and McNally's head came up like a hawk. McNally began to turn back with a frown to look at where Seger's gaze had snapped to. "Oh, what fucking now?"

Delta was quietly laughing.

Her eyes were unfocused, and there was blood in her hair and face, and she was laughing. Around her head, a corona of white had formed on the black matter. That stuff doesn't like her, he thought. Somehow, that struck Segers as a deeply ominous development. Her mask had come down where she had been hit. A smear of blood coming from her grinning mouth made him think vaguely of the Joker.

There were knives in her hands again.

Without realizing it, Segers started backing away from the scene, towards the counter with the pack of supplies, and right into a tangle of growths wrapped around the edge of the counter.

For a long moment, the world had greyed out on Marigold.

Well, she thought blearily. I'm not sure he's infected. But he's definitely taken something*. There was* far too much power in that hit. The lack of an actual infection she could perceive had made her overconfident about getting in the burgeoning madman's face.

Beneath and behind her, the hyphae shifted. Nothing was broken, but she'd hit the back of her head on something - a cabinet door, a shelf, she didn't know - and warmth had bloomed across the back of her head and neck. Even though it made her nausea worse, Marigold forced herself to pull away from the wall with a groan. Breathing the spores from this stuff was bad enough.

Somewhere, distantly, she could hear McNally almost apologetically rationalize his actions to Segers. Segers' voice was neutral and placating, but he could hear his heart jackhammering away in his chest from here. He knew exactly how much of this stuff she'd already been exposed to, and the point where it had stopped being an easy solution.

McNally had no idea.

Marigold began to laugh to herself at the ridiculousness of it. A moment ago, McNally had ignored Segers to bait her into giving him information. Now he was so focused on calming down the witness he'd not bothered to see whether she was still conscious.

Her vision swam back into focus, and she looked up. Don was staring at her like she was the one who'd gone insane. She started laughing harder.

He'd said three generations of Ashfords. Spencer's hand at work again, and this thundering idiot had gleefully shown it. There was no way this bloody scavenger would have revealed himself now unless he was very confident of his position, and the protection it entailed.

"What the fuck is going on here," Don said in a strained voice. The thin shard of dominance he'd wrested over the situation was slipping away, and he clearly didn't like it.

"It's funny," Marigold retorted. She got her feet under her again in a crouch, pushing away the way it made her head swim. "So eager to get away, but you just had to come up here to pick a fight. You said it yourself. Like one of those penny dreadfuls where the villain needs to give away their big plan to validate themselves. Did you just pump yourself up with some spare creatine lying about the office, or -" at the flash of panic coming over Don's face, "Oh, you tried to be clever, didn't you?" She stepped forward, noting Don's arm tensing up to hit her properly this time.

"Little bitch," McNally growled. "You don't know a goddamned thing about what it was like to work for this little pack of harpies."

Marigold actually giggled a little at that, a short punctuated thing that made the Scotsman's lip curl, his eyes flash with real rage. Her next words dripped with contempt. "Are you waiting for an invitation? Either throw it or don't, no one has time for foreplay here."

Marigold dodged the swing that came for her head, catching his arm. Even if she cared to argue with McNally, he'd come up here to twist the knife the instant he felt the other person wouldn't technically be in a position to fight back, being a high-value target, and she in this uniform.

There was about the same about of power in it that Wesker used when he had spared with her leading up to all of this mess. This one was much less accustomed to his prey fighting back. She smirked at him before using his momentum to send him crashing into the floor - into the hyphae. "You want to get into the fray so damned badly, here you go." The carpet of hyphae squirmed, almost as if offended.

Well, Alexia knew where this one was now.

Not letting go of his arm, she put a foot into his back and pulled, just hard enough. There was a howl of outrage and a hard crack when McNally's arm slipped out of its socket and simultaneously snapped somewhere above his elbow.

Torn between the desire to get away from the hyphae and rage-fueled adrenaline, he reached for the BOW gun again, only to have it kicked away. A very fine odor of ammonia came from him now, like his body was consuming its stores too fast.

Marigold backed away from him again, letting McNally get up. He was breathing heavily. After a moment, he reached up to grasp his arm, bracing it to wrench it back in where it belonged. He winced when he flexed his arm again, tight against his side, then grinned. The laugh he made sounded more like a snarl. "Gonna take a lot more than that to take me down at this point, sweetheart."

Marigold looked to Segers, almost sorry. He'd been on the sidelines of her drama violently boiling over already. "See? He's fine. Get to the elevators, I'll be right behind you." Segers nodded, bolting for the door and disappearing into the hall.

The smell was getting stronger as bone and flesh rapidly healed. McNally had recovered fast- inhumanely so. She ducked the second, almost drunken blow he aimed for her head - rude - and delivered two sharp ones to his throat. A hard kick to the knee made a sickening crunch, and the giant finally fell, gurgling. As infuriating as this man was, it felt more appropriate to let his own choices take him. Slowly. Until that point came, he was HCF's problem. Let them waste each other's time. It would give the family more time to evacuate.

Almost as if summoned by the thought, a rumbling sound came from the wall as something much larger that the hyphae punched out of the wall at knee height, savagely swiping at anything in the way. That's a new one, Marigold thought as she hopped over the intrusion, but Don was dealt a body blow that sent him crashing hard into the lab bench.

Marigold blinked at the tentacle reared back, and receded into the hole it had torn into the wall. That had to be Alexia's work. It had been too targeted to be anything else. Time to go, she thought. Grabbing her pack, she swept the rest of the papers in and headed out the door after Segers.

She might have been humming to herself.